Crystal Tears and a Heart of Jade
by The Lady Arturia
Summary: He had been drawn to her from the very first moment he had set eyes on her. She was the Goddess of the night, surrounded by tomes upon tomes as the light of the moon shone down on her graceful form, while he was the Guardian who watched her from the shadows, choosing to remain unseen and hidden away from her light as her crystal-clear tears rained down on his cold heart of jade.


**Disclaimer** **: In case you've forgotten, because I haven't written one of these in a while, everything you think you recognise belongs to our Queen, JKR. Everything else belongs to your one and only- me.**

 **Edit 30.8.15: This story was chosen as the Judge's Pick for the round it was written for out of all the stories submitted for the same position!**

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 **Crystal Tears and a Heart of Jade**

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 _She found a thin, black, leather-bound book in the farthest bookshelf of the library. The leather had the unmistakeable semblance to snakeskin, and she knew it had belonged to him. She imagined that it was a memoir of their tragic love, of what could have been, and she simply kissed its spine with tear-filled eyes before replacing it on the shelf._

 _-_ oOo-

On the night they first met, the skies were overcast, the air was frigid, and the tiny hut they were taking shelter in could barely stand against the roaring winds; she was late, and he was at the end of his patience.

The world outside, as seen from the small, rickety window he was seated at, was pitch black. It was as though the dingy, little house was suspended within a vacuum where nothing existed, save for the deep rumble of thunder and the darting streaks of lightning across the starless sky.

He shifted in place, cringing as the stool let out a pained squeak, and continued to stare out at the expanse of black, as he had been doing for the past four hours. They were supposed to meet hours ago, when the skies were still light, but the fourth member of their entourage was nowhere to be seen.

He shivered as he rose to his feet. It seemed Godric and Helga had forgotten, once again, to recast the warming spells. As he suspected, Lord Gryffindor and Lady Hufflepuff were in the adjacent room, too busy entertaining themselves with a translucent ball of light that hovered in mid air, making strange, unintelligible sounds, both seeming to have forgotten their primary purpose.

He was just about to tell the duo off when there were three sharp raps on the door. At his wit's end, he strode over to the front door and forced it open, grinding his teeth as the hinges groaned.

"Who goes there?" he barked into the darkness, squinting as he tried to make out the hooded form that stood just outside the circle of light cast by his wand.

The person hesitated before stepping onto the threshold, pulling back their hood to reveal a ghostly pale face. The woman's long locks of dark hair stuck to her face and body, her cloak clung to her slight frame, and she stood trembling, chapped lips and intense, blue eyes giving her an ethereal sort of look. He was drawn to her in the matter of a heartbeat.

"Oh, thank heavens! Rowena, you have finally come!" Helga pushed past him as she ushered the shivering woman into the hut, confirming his suspicion that the witch was indeed the one they had been waiting for. "Salazar, be a dear and recast the warming spells, would you?"

Grumbling under his breath, he kicked the door shut and waved his wand. The fire in the small fireplace roared as Helga helped the newcomer into the next room. A few minutes later, the women returned warm and dry, and Helga helped the brunette witch into the weathered armchair before the fire. She then motioned for Godric and him to come closer and turned to her friend with a smile.

"Rowena, darling, let me introduce you." She motioned towards Godric and said, "Lady Ravenclaw, this is Lord Gryffindor—"

"Godric to you, my lady. It is a pleasure to finally meet you," the redheaded wizard gushed, taking the brunette's dainty hand in his own and placing a kiss on her knuckles.

The corners of her lips twitched as she said in a voice that was oddly reminiscent of a peaceful autumn's evening, "The pleasure is mine."

She then turned towards him, her cyan eyes twinkling. "And you must be Lord Slytherin."

"The one and only." He grasped her outstretched hand and brought it to his lips, never looking away from her shimmering gaze. "Well met, Lady Ravenclaw."

-oOo-

On the night before the first school term began, the sky was clear and sprinkled with stars, the air held the lingering scent of summer, and the new library was warm and comfortable; she was at peace as she read, and he enjoyed watching her from the shadows.

"I know you're there, Salazar. I can sense your unmistakeable presence even amongst the hundreds of books."

He stiffened, having been caught red-handed, but he remained silent, unwilling to be the one to shatter the solitude of the night.

She turned to look in his direction; he knew she could not see him, yet she knew he was there. Her cerulean eyes danced in the flickering lamplight, and he felt his breath catch as a slow smile spread across her beautiful face.

"Salazar," she called, the laughter clear in her lilting voice. "Stop skulking in the shadows like you are guilty of doing wrong and come join me." She then added, "I won't offer again."

He stepped out from behind a bookshelf and into the light of the single table-lamp, revelling at the way her eyes widened at the sight of him and how she kicked back the chair opposite hers.

"Take a seat," she instructed, as though he was a student being reprimanded, but her eyes were gentle and kind.

"You're reading under lamplight again," he commented as he sat, grunting at the feeling of the hard, uncomfortable wood.

"I did not wish to disrupt the serenity of the library in the middle of the night."

She looked out the window as she spoke, and the moonlight caught the gentle curves and dips of her face, highlighting her high cheekbones and full lips, and throwing shadows across her neck and bosom. She was a sight to behold, drenched in the light of the heavens, truly a Goddess of the night.

"You're staring."

Her voice was soft as the gentle caress of the moonbeams on her skin, and she had a knowing look in her eyes.

"I cannot be blamed," he murmured, although his cheeks grew hot at the thought that she had caught him watching her twice that night.

"Is that so?" She turned back to her book, and they lapsed into comfortable silence—her, immersed in reading, and him, content in simply watching her.

It had become a secret of theirs, these late-night meetings. They never really sought each other out; sometimes he would find himself standing outside the double doors of the library, knowing she would be inside, and other times would find them meeting while wandering the halls. They would take leisure strolls under the moon, neither speaking, both content in the other's company, and they would separate just before dawn. She would thank him and brush her warm lips against his cheek; he would stare into her eyes for a moment longer than necessary, and they would each go their separate ways.

He had been drawn to her from the very first moment he had set eyes on her that fateful night in the storm. And while she put up a front while in the company of the other two, he would still catch her looking his way when she thought he didn't know, or notice her pausing in conversation whenever he entered the room.

There was something palpable between them, but neither wanted to shatter the balance they had created, and were simply content with knowing the other felt the same way. But he couldn't help the sense of foreboding that settled over him whenever it was just the two of them. Every time she smiled at him, it chipped away at his heart, and the feeling of trepidation only escalated.

The skies were clear, but, for some reason, he could sense a storm brewing.

-oOo-

On the day after the first school year had ended, the air was warm and humid, the sun shone a little too brightly, and it was too hot a summer's day to do anything; she refused to choose, and he was at the end of his patience.

"Why must we allow even the ones that barely qualify as wizarding folk to study in our prestigious school?"

There were collective sighs as he brought up a topic that had been discussed at length multiple times before, without ever reaching a satisfactory conclusion.

"As we have said so many times before, Salazar," Godric began, the irritation clear in his voice, "there is no such thing as _barely qualified_ when it comes to being magical _._ All the children who have magic in their veins are chosen and accepted to study in Hogwarts—that is how it is, and that is how it shall always be."

"But I have to disagree!" He banged his fist on the table, startling both Rowena and Helga, and they stared at him wide-eyed. "I hold fast to what I have said: those like us, of Pure-blood, should be the ones to further their magical knowledge. Are you telling me that those children born of dirty blood deserve to be treated the same way as those of pure blood?"

"Yes!" roared Godric, his face having turned as red as his hair. " _There is no such thing as Pure-blood and dirty blood!_ All magical folk are equal!"

Enraged, emerald eyes hard and cold, he spat, "Then why is it that Rowena refuses to accept any but the most intelligent into her house? Why is it that you take only the brave? If you were willing to let me teach the Pure-blooded children, then you cannot call my demands unreasonable!"

"I shall call them what they are!" Godric pushed himself up and whipped out his wand, shooting a blast of red at him. He pulled out his own wand and cast a Shield Charm just in time; the hex ricocheted off his pulsating shield and shattered the stones behind him.

Helga shrieked and sprang towards Godric, holding him back, and Rowena rushed to his side just as he sent a curse of his own at the other wizard. Godric deflected the spell, but it just missed Helga by the hairs on her head, and she let out a frightened scream as she pulled out her own wand. Rowena looked terrified; her wide, blue eyes were fearful, and the worry was clear in her voice as she said, "Salazar, please!" She held his arm and touched his face, forcing him to look at her. "Stop this madness!"

He could see his reflection in her clear eyes, and it only heightened his anger when he saw his face twisted in an ugly sneer, his eyes dark and cold. "So you have chosen your side, then, Rowena," he hissed.

She flinched, as though stung. "What? No!"

"Then you choose me?"

She hesitated for only a moment, but the brief pause was enough to snap the last strand of his sanity. It wasn't _him_ who had turned what should have been a discussion into something violent, so why was it that all three of his so-called _friends_ were watching him with wary eyes, as though he was a rampaging madman who could not control himself?

He snarled as he pulled his arm free from her grasp and pushed her aside. If she was going to side with Godric, then let her! He had always known that they did not share the same ideals and beliefs as him.

"Salazar—"

"You have made your decision, as I have made mine. Come find me if and when you change your mind."

So saying, he cast a final, disgusted glance towards Godric and Helga and strode out of the room. She called after him, begging him to see reason, but her pleas only fell upon deaf ears. If it were she who was in his place, she would stand firm for what she believed in and wouldn't waver no matter what anyone said. It only made sense that he found her inability to choose sides an act of betrayal. He was not asking her to agree with him, he was simply asking her to _choose_ him. Was that truly so difficult considering everything they had shared?

-oOo-

On the first winter night he had spent seething in his chambers, she had slipped in unbeknownst to him. He remembered the sweet scent of her perfume and the clean smell of her freshly washed hair as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. He remembered her sparkling azure eyes as she smiled tentatively and led him to his bedroom, her translucent silver robes glittering in the green light. He remembered the feel of her soft, supple skin as she writhed beneath him, the sound of her sweet voice crying out in ecstasy and her pink lips whispering his name as though in prayer.

He remembered the way her eyes widened when he told her that he would leave soon, with or without her, her disbelief that he could still say such a thing after what they had just done clear in those glistening, blue orbs. He remembered the sharp ringing of the slap as she struck him across the face, her eyes filled with tears of betrayal as she slipped out of his room the way she had come: quietly, stealthily, but with his shattered heart.

He had only asked her for one simple thing: to choose him. To choose him over right or wrong, good or bad. To choose him over Godric and Helga and the school they had founded together. To choose him so that they could leave and never look back.

But he had expected no less than the cold, empty room he had been left behind in. He had always known that her love for him would never triumph her love for knowledge and sharing it with curious minds that wanted to learn. He had always known that she would never leave the safe haven that she had created within the stonewalls of Hogwarts, where the laughter of children echoed through the hallways and the rustle of parchment could be heard from within the classrooms.

Her choice had been obvious from the very beginning, and he was a fool to have deluded himself into thinking that she would cast it all aside to be with him. After all, she was the Goddess of the night, surrounded by tomes upon tomes as the light of the moon shone down on her graceful form, while he was the Guardian who watched her from the shadows, choosing to remain unseen and hidden away from her light.

And now, his light was gone, and all that was left of him was an empty shell cast away into the darkness. He could never again watch her from the shadows, for without her light, all that was left was the impenetrable darkness of the night, where he would skulk for eternity, never to resurface.

But even in his self-pity and loathing, even through his cursing and swearing for revenge, he knew that he could still make a choice. He could still choose to step out of the shadows and into the light and sit opposite her, watching her as she read in the waning lamplight. He knew that all he had to do was walk to her chambers and tell her that he would choose her over everything else.

But even as the image of her crystal clear eyes and her glorious smile came to mind, even as her lilting laughter that reminded him of warm autumn evenings by a roaring fire echoed in his ears, he knew that he had made his choice as she had made hers.

And just as her choices did not include him, neither would the ones he would make include her.

He had been drawn to her from the moment he had set his eyes on her, but what he had seen was an unattainable, forbidden fruit that he could taint and ruin, not the breath-taking woman of wisdom that she truly was. By the time he had realised it, it was already too late.

Yet, even as he cast the last spell on the door to his hidden chamber deep beneath the solid foundation of Hogwarts, even as he sealed the entrance to his Chamber of Secrets and let loose the poisonous monster to grow within the school, even as he left behind a single, black, leather-bound notebook in the farthest shelves of the library for someone to find and exited the welcoming halls of Hogwarts forevermore, he could only think of one thing: in the end, neither him nor her had ever uttered the three words that could have changed everything.

In the end, it was their foolish, unspoken love that had destroyed it all.

-oOo-

 _She yearned to open the black book, to see if he had left something within it that would reaffirm his love for her, but she never had the courage to go through with it. And so, she would always put it back on the shelf and walk away, until the day she never came back—until the day it was retrieved by a pale boy with shimmering eyes and a thirst for power._

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 **A/n: I have wanted to write another Salwena for the longest time. Theirs is such a beautifully tragic love that both know nothing would ever come out of, and it's just so heart-breaking and I LOVE THEM TO BITS.**

 **This was written for Round 10 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Challenge and my prompt as Keeper for the Falmouth Falcons was to write about 'A dark character/light character relationship.' My initial idea was Drarry but it ended up too fluffy an idea for my dark mood, so I decided to write a Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw one.**

 **Thoughts, opinions and constructive criticism are welcome as always! Review review review!**

 **I hope you enjoyed this and thanks for reading!**

 **P.S. wish me luck on my mid-terms tomorrow.**

 **Lots of love~**

 **Arty xx**


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